Way Out
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: When Dudley comes out, he's forced into treatment. Enter one cheeky girl to restore the fight in him and teach him that normalcy is overrated.:: For Sam.


AN: For Quest into the Unknown (prompts: Advertisement, "Way Out"- Bass Drum of Death, and "Have you seen my pink gloves?"), Opposite Day Challenge (write an OC), and the Mood Ring Challenge (violet: misled).  
I can never express this enough: For those like my Dudley, you are beautiful and perfect the way you are. There's nothing to be fixed. Got it?

**"I'm never coming home. I found my way out."- Bass Drum of Death, "Way Out"**

I.

Dudley says it before he really thinks it through, and the words fall from his lips, rushed and frantic. "I'm gay."

Silence.

Then his mother drops her teacup and sobs as her husband bellows, "No son of mine!"

He's known this would happen. For years, he's been lead to believe that anything that doesn't fit into what's socially acceptable is wrong. Those who don't comply with the norm are freaks, horrible and abnormal.

"I'm sorry," Dudley whispers, but it's too late to take the words back now.

His father moves closer, hesitating before gripping Dudley in a bruising hold around the arm. "You're not staying here. I won't have a have a queer under my roof!"

"Vernon!"

And Dudley thinks his mother will come to his rescue as she's done thousands of times before. She'll hug him and telling him it's okay before convincing her husband that Dudley is still their son, that they will love him regardless.

But there is clear disgust in her eyes, and Dudley knows it's not for his father's behavior. "We can't just throw him out. Someone might see."

"What else is there, Petunia?"

Without looking at her son, she says, "Dudley, go to your room."

OoOoO

Dudley paces his room once again, hating himself. He never should have said anything. He'll be eighteen in two months. If he'd just pretended a little longer, just until he could leave, everything would have been okay.

"Stupid," he scolds himself. "Typical stupid Dudley."

The door opens, and his parents appear, both wearing grim expressions.

"We've decided we won't throw you out," his mother says, still refusing to look at him.

Relief floods his body. Maybe they've done the math. Maybe they've decided they can pretend to be a normal family for just a little longer. But his father shatters that hope in seconds.

"You can't stay," he says. "Not here, not the way you are."

"But I thought-"

"Shut up," his father interrupts, his tone so sharp that Dudley finds himself shrinking back in newly found fear. "We have a compromise."

Dudley nods, wringing his hands nervously. "Okay..."

"There's a special place for people like you," his mother says gently. "They can fix you."

Dudley wants to tell them that he isn't broken. There's nothing in him to fix. But he wants to make them happy, and he finds herself nodding along. "How come I've never heard about it?"

His father snorts. "Not exactly good for advertisement, is it? All the bloody namby pamby bleeding hearts would try to shut it down. That's your choice. Get better or leave."

Dudely swallows dryly. Not much of a choice. "I'll do it."

II.

The doctors are a little too nice, but Dudley can sense the ice beneath their forced smiles. They really believe in what they're doing. They believe they can make him better.

The other kids in the program aren't much better. They all have hollow eyes and equally forced smiles. It's like he's surrounded by the ghosts of people still living.

Dudley has never felt more alone.

OoOoO

"Have you seen my pink gloves?"

Dudely looks up, blinking in confusion at a black girl who wears a cheeky grin and looks around with haughty eyes. She's too happy being there, and Dudley wonders if she's touched in the head. "Your what?"

"My pink gloves," she repeats. "Because pink is such a feminine color, and God Almighty will save my poor soul if I wear enough of it."

Dudley likes the way venomous sarcasm drips from her words. Even more, he likes the way she gives the finger to their prayer group leader when he passes by. This girl is the first who doesn't seem to be an empty shell.

"Sorry. Can't help you," he says, and he laughs for the first time in weeks.

"Fat lot of help you are," she teases. "This is exactly why I prefer women."

OoOoO

Brianna becomes his only friend. She's the only person who eases the hell he's submitted to.

When he comes back from an aversion therapy session, stomach still knotted from the drugs they had forced into his system, Brianna is the one to hold him up. She verbally abuses the doctors, as she always does, and hatches dreams of escape.

It's comforting, really. She almost reminds him of Piers, faithful and vicious, unafraid.

"Thank you," he says, trembling, still sick and shaky.

"Don't mention it, mate. You can pay me back by being maid of honor at my wedding."

Dudley laughs. "I'm not wearing a dress."

"Me neither."

III.

Brianna has the big idea. They're supposed to be cured. They're supposed to fawn over the doctors and thank them for saving them or whatever.

"So, let's be cured."

Dudley raises his brows. "Excuse me?"

He's afraid that she's finally lost her edge. They've finally broken her down and forced her to believe like them.

She twirls a finger in his hair. "Come on, Blondie. Use that pretty little brain of yours, mate."

OoOoO

Kissing her feels wrong. That almost makes Dudley laugh. For all the shocks and pills and prayers, he's still repulsed by the touch of a woman.

They're caught, and Brianna plays her part well, all embarrassment and awkwardness. "Sorry! I couldn't help myself. I-"

But the nurse only smiles. "Not at all, dear! That's encouraged," she insists before rushing away, happily muttering something about poster children.

Dudley and Brianna exchange quick knowing smirks before heading to their separate therapy rooms.

OoOoO

They're released together, holding hands for show.

"Shame you aren't a girl," Brianna teases when they're out of earshot.

"Shame you aren't a bloke."

She smiles at that, glancing over her shoulder at the place that had been their shared hell for so long. "So, you going home?"

He doesn't even have to consider it. He's been misled for so many years, taught to believe that normalcy is the only option. How can he return now, knowing his parents had hated him for something so natural within him?

"Nah," he says. "Best not to, I think."

She nods, giving her signature grin. "Me neither."


End file.
